Drunk Date
by Laury the Latrator
Summary: Juliet gets a call in the middle of the night asking for a ride. Set after Mr. Yang. I hope I captured Shawn & Henry's relationship pretty well.


"S'juliet?"

"Detective Jules!"

"........Shawn?"

It was sometime after midnight and Juliet was lucky to have been asleep. Her ordinarily busy day had been transformed into a train wreck as the Feds ordered a massive manhunt for an escaped convict. The reports had indicated that the target was likely to be moving _away_ from Santa Barbara, but that didn't stop the entire department being forced to comb through every nook and cranny of every farfetched lead. O'Hara hadn't gotten off her feet until 10 pm! And now a completely unexpected voice was rousing her from her nightly coma. She blinked at the receiver for a moment as if waiting for it to explain itself.

"I am in need of some policely back up. Someone has stolen my keys! Bring your handcuffs. Oh, and ignore how kinky that sounded, you always do."

Juliet gave a groan. Even in her fatigue and shock she could still make out the slurring of Shawn Spencer's words. "Are you drunk dialing me or something? 'Cause this is pretty weird. Even for you."

"How could you even think that of me, Jules! I'm giving you a case, and now this gentleman is waving them in front of my face! Go on, taunt the victim! Isn't that arrestable, Jules? See if I ever come back to this fine establishment!" Her sluggish detective's brain was beginning to kick in.

"Hold on. Is this your way of asking for a ride? Where are you?"

"A bar." Helpful...

"What's the address of that bar?"

"It's off the interstate heading south, exit 14, first left, second right." Wow. Juliet was impressed. Even inebriated he had a surprisingly good memory. Shawn could have been reading it off mapquest.

"Don't go anywhere and don't you dare drink anything else." With that she sprang into action.

20 minutes later Juliet had pulled up to the 'fine establishment' and was not surprised to see Shawn's bike sitting outside. The place itself was just another dingy bar in another dingy town. Why on earth Shawn had driven this far out to get drunk was beyond her. She stepped through the doors and noticed that it was practically empty. Shawn was sitting at the bar, wearing a leather jacket that had to have been more for effect than the weather, and arguing/begging for his keys back.

"Thank you sir, I'll take it from here." Juliet said to the disgruntled barman. He grudgingly gave her Shawn's motorcycle key and determinedly turned away to wash dished. Shawn jumped at the sound of her voice and looked like he forgot all about calling her.

"Jules? How are you, can I buy you a drink seeing as we're already here. Oh and I've been meaning to ask you: can you give me a ride?" He looked (and smelled) awful: there were bags under his eyes, his hair was ruffled like he'd been running his fingers through it, and his leather jacket was stained with the beer he stank of. Jules felt a stab of pity. She grabbed his arm and pulled him after her. He chatted all the way to the car.

"—and did you know that the swallow actually _can_ carry—"

"Shawn." Juliet shot him a piercing look and he remarkably shut up. She wondered briefly if he would be able to get his bike in the morning... or whenever he became able to drive safely. She guided/pushed the psychic into her sedan.

"Ow, I'm not a perp Jules, some tender love and care would be nice! That and any sudden movements is for some reason making me very, very dizzy. Not that fun let me tell you!"

"Shh... Just relax Shawn. You're seriously tipsy."

"Tipsy? Jules from what I can tell in my currently plastered state I'm way beyond tipsy. I'm smashed, bombed, pissed, canned, stewed, tanked, wasted, sozzled, sloshed—"

"Shawn, did you look up every synonym for intoxicated?" She wouldn't tell him she found his dedication mildly impressive as she pulled out of the parking lot.

"It comes in handy when you're me." Juliet was slightly surprised to hear a tinge of sadness under the usual merry sarcasm. Her concern grew.

"Shawn? What's wrong? What happened to make you do this to yourself?"

He laughed, but it was hollow and devoid of his usual cheer. It made Juliet shiver uncomfortably. Not the good shivers she often got when around Shawn Spencer.

"It's nothing Julsie-poolsie-pants." Juliet gave a small snort of laughter at the ridiculous nickname. "Say have I ever made you a pineapple upside down cake? It's really quite an amazing taste experience."

"Can you just answer me?" Jules bit her lip, her gaze straying from the road for a moment to glance at her friend. "Is it Abigail?" Shawn stared out the window morosely.

"Nah. We're fine, surprisingly enough..." Juliet did not acknowledge the feeling in her stomach when he told her about his relationship with his girlfriend. It didn't help that this time it was serious. Spencer had dated his high school sweetheart steadily since the Mr. Yang case. Juliet had vowed to be there for her best friend (and crush...) even if he had the perfect girlfriend he had been waiting for forever... and it wasn't her.

"Please Shawn, you call me up at midnight to pick you up from a dive miles away completely drunk, I think I deserve some explanation." Shawn was silent for so long, Juliet thought she had scared him away.

"Tell me Jules, have you ever had someone in your life who needs to control everything! Someone who only cares about results and perfection! Someone who wont accept their only son if they don't turn out exactly like him! No child deserves that..." It was his father. That much was clear. From the short interactions between the two that Jules had witnessed she could tell that there were major problems between the ex-cop and the freelance psychic detective. But from her understanding they were pretty civil with each other, occasionally solving cases together, and she never expected Shawn to go awol over him. It was... mind boggling.

"Henry," that felt weird... "may be controlling, but was he worth this?" Shawn made that hollow laugh again.

"When you were a kid you believed in Santa Claus right?" She nodded, not really liking where this train might go. "Well because of my_ dad_," he said the word with such venom... "I figured out he wasn't real when I was six. Oh sure, I didn't want to believe it so I ignored the signs, I disregarded the clues so I could keep on pretending there was someone who brought me presents just for the hell of it." Jules was shocked.

"How did you find out? When you were six? My parents didn't tell me until I was 12." Shawn put his hands in his lap, clenching and unclenching the fingers just for something to do.

"Every Christmas morning he made me analyze the scene and recreate it in my mind. I noticed discrep—disk—discrepenzies—"

"Discrepancies? Wait... he had you practice police work when you were six before you could open your presents or something?"

"Yup!" His fake cheery voice was worse than his hollow laugh. Juliet clutched the steering wheel tighter. Drunk-Shawn was very emotional it seemed. Jules always got flirty and weepy—at the same time which was really unfortunate. She was sure she would have preferred Shawn be more like drunk-her.

"He must have had a reason. I get he must be hard to deal with, but you know he's proud of you and he loves you—"

"See that's the thing!" Burst out Shawn, violently gesturing with his arms in frustration. "One minute he could be testing my skills the next praising my work and the next reminding me of how I've been a complete failure my entire life! How can I love someone like that? How can I _hate_ him? It's too confusing for my banging head to understand. God it feels like there are elephants doing the conga in here!"

"Don't deflect." Juliet warned him. She was having trouble keeping up with his fast slurry speech. But she could tell how badly he was affected by this... whatever. "Did something happen recently to bring all these feelings up?" Shawn sighed and stared out the window again.

"I thought he would be happy that I took a girl on a second date for once. But somehow we got in a fight where he tells me that I'll hurt Abigail again because that's what I do: I fail, I never work hard, and I don't commit. And he just stood there telling me all the screw ups I can't forget like it was his job to break my spirit! Doesn't he know I can already bring up any memory of my failure and replay it in my head... just like he taught me to... oops was that I secret, I forget."

"Your mom mentioned she had an eidetic memory, and I figured it was possible you inherited it. So... not so secret..." Jules was nervous about revealing that, but he needed to know she was there for him. He finally looked at her in appreciation.

"Detective O'Hara I'm impressed. Hopefully I'll remember that tomorrow." He closed his eyes. "Of course I will. Because it never stops. Thanks to him and his stupid training it never stops!" He was shouting and gripping his hair in frustration. He looked ready to pull it out. Jules pulled over on the side of the road. No they weren't quite in Santa Barbara and the parking stop wasn't exactly legal, but it was dire.

She moved the loose objects separating them and pulled the smelly psychic into a hug. Shawn relaxed instantly as he felt her slender arms snake around his slumped body. He thought of the incredible events that had lead to this point, nearly crying in Detective O'Hara's embrace while his girlfriend slept soundly at her home. It was surreal, he realized while completely stoned, that the girl he finally connected with on a deeper level than just a first date was helping him in the middle of the night even though he probably broke her heart and shattered her confidence. His father would tell him something to make Shawn hate himself right now. Because real men don't show this sort of emotion to people. But Shawn hated his father and his damn advice right now. He had been trying for 33 years to fully hate his dad; maybe he was there now.

"Thank you." He whispered, her still leaning uncomfortably over the gear shift and his head still buried in his hands.

Juliet wasn't thinking. This seemed too intimate for someone in a relationship to be doing. But then again, Jules liked to think of herself as special.

"That's what friends are for." She replied softly. His hands slid over his face at the word 'friends'. "Are you ready to go home?"

"Not just yet..." Shawn's mind was hurting, not only his head. He was bound to hurt everyone he loved because that's what he does... They stayed in silence for a moment, Juliet's hands unconsciously stroking his arms in comfort.

"Why me?" She asked out of the blue. "Why not Gus or Abigail?" Shawn turned his head, devoid of hands, to look into her eyes.

"I just... needed you." Their faces were close in this embrace, their noses could have touched if they moved in.

Shawn wanted to, so much more than he had with close talking. He doubted he would give her a choice if he got closer. He knew he should really turn his head but Shawn wasn't moving. He would hurt Abigail, then Juliet, then anyone else who walked into his life...

Juliet could feel his warmth even under the leather jacket. She wanted —no, _needed—_ to kiss him, just like the close talking fiasco, just like the night in the Cinema Vu. But as she breathed in his scent, so musky and soft, she remembered that he was dead drunk. The smell on his breath was enough to kick her back into sensible mode. She rubbed his arms one more time and leaned back into her chair, gripping the wheel again. He nodded and looked out the window again.

Rejected? His bleary mind wasn't thinking straight. Did she give up on me already? Or is she being responsible? Am I seriously this drunk? These were the thoughts stumbling through his pounding head.

"Well to answer your question fully, Gus would be insensitive because he can for some reason tolerate my dad. And if it were you, would you call up your boyfriend to pick you up drunk as a skunk in a bunk that sunk in... beer? I could have sworn that was going somewhere good." She shook her head and didn't look at him.

"Lets get you home before dawn or your girlfriend might get worried." Ah. Responsible.

"I sincerely hope you don't mean Gus." This brought an unwilling laugh to her lips which instinctively curved. At this pleasant sight, the psychic promptly passed out. Juliet smiled at the serene (yet smelly) man next to her. Yes. She loved him. And she could wait.


End file.
